The Second Free Dragon
by Goose Girl18
Summary: After the battle for Feinster in Brisingr Eragon finds a strange person in his tent. Who is she? A/N: She will not be a Mary Sue, so don't worry about that.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, It's been a while since I updated my other story, but in my defense I was working on this. So here it is. Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon or anything else. OH, the tragedy!**

_Who could possibly be in my tent?_ Eragon thought as he entered his twilight- darkened tent. The day had been long and trying for Eragon; the death of Oromis, the siege of Feinster, the slaying of yet another shade, and the simple toll of battle had all left their indelible mark on Eragon. He was bruised, battered, cut, and exhausted physically as well as mentally. All he truly wanted was to lie down and rest his weary limbs and fatigued mind and drift in the subtle visions of his dreams. Still, on the plus side, Saphira was an infinite comfort with her soft reassurances, and simply sharing the mourning of the death of a wonderful mentor and friend was a blessing.

They had made their way through the camp. The smell of smoke and death was still thick in the air mingling with the cries of those who were dying even now and those who had lost loved ones. The wails wound in one ear, rattled the brain and set teeth on edge before sialing out the other. The camp seemed to find balance for the tortured cries with drinks. Men were toasting to their victories and raising glasses to fallen comrades, while others became raucous and began drinking songs.

Eragon had been running to and fro nearly the whole time, assisting the Du Vrangar Gata and Angela the witch, and the elvish members of his guard with the wounded. Mending broken bones and fixing most ailments battles brought was easy for him, what Eragon couldn't handle was the fact he could not be everywhere at once, people died before they could be brought to him. Their pleas for help still rang fresh in his ears when the Angela had shooed him from her tent telling him that unless he rested he would drop dead himself from exhaustion and using too much energy in a spell when he had none left to give. Numbly, he had abided by Angela's request and was at that moment hastening to his tent.

He was almost at the entrance of his tent when he sensed another consciousness dwelling inside it.

"Blodhgarm?" he whispered as quietly as he could, knowing the fur- covered elf could hear him.

"Yes Shadeslayer, we feel it as well," the elf all but breathed in his ear. "However, we feel no hostility, and it is no conscious we recognize."

"Perhaps it is a solider with news from Nasuada?" Eragon suggested.

"This is no solider. I can smell no blood, no sweat, nor any of the things that are associated with the battle we have just fought some hours hence."

"Do you think it wise to enter?" Eragon frowned.

"I think we have a need to know who is in this tent. No harm shall come to you Argetlam, you can be sure of that." The other elves nodded and mumbled their reassurances. Eragon had no doubt the elves would protect him from any threat or catch any clue he was likely to miss, but the battle and all the healing had frayed his nerves.

_Saphira. _Eragon reached for Saphira's comforting presence.

_Yes, little one, I think it is safe to enter. You and I have been in enough battles and we both seem to know when something too dangerous is nearby._

_We do?_

_Well, at least I do, _she amended. _My scales tend to itch when anything terribly dangerous is near._

_Do they now?_

_Yes, they do. Now get in there and kick whoever it is out. We both need to rest._

Eragon chuckled and slowly drew back the tent flap. Once inside, he saw a lamp had been lit, but was almost gone out. Whoever had come to his tent had been there awhile. His eyes drifted slowly around the room, searching for any kind of signal or clue as to whether the person in his tent was truly hostile.

He spotted nothing until his eyes drifted to the cot. There was a strange sort of sack near the foot; it was made of several different colored yarn, and several long pieces of ribbon seemed to hang down from it for no particular reason. Many objects were either sewn into the bag or were pinned there. All were small but some were glittered strangely while others were the oddest colors. A number of objects protruded from the bag: several bottle full of poisonous looking liquids, tiny bottles that seemed to be filled with paint, a number of strange silver devices whose purpose escaped him and a small bunch of feathers of varying length and colors had completely fallen out of the bag and now lay next to it.

Next to it lied a long case it had the general shape of a gourd but was flatter and a long neck extended from it. The case itself was made from a thick black sort of wool covering a hardened shell, there were numerous pockets and bags hanging from it as well. While the bag had been somewhat given a clue as to what it was, but this was just confusing.

Eragon had become distracted by the bag and case, but now his attention was fully devoted to the figure as it moved.

It wasn't a particularly large figure, and, by the general shape, it was a woman or girl. His guard lowered for a moment, but then rose twice as high as he remembered that his own mother had been one of the Empire's most skilled assassins. The figure's back was turned to him and she lay on her side. He slowly slipped his hunting knife from his boot, not wanting the unnecessary scraping of a swordto avoid alerting her to his presence and approached the figure ever so quietly. The figure stirred again and a hand slipped from one of the blankets, it was thin, white, smooth, and on each finger was a silver ring in a different style and design. The figure turned again fitfully and Eragon could fully see its face.

She was unmistakably beautiful: her skin was a colorless as snow, her lips were a pale pink, and her face was framed by a shock of ebony hair. The hair itself was a mysteriously dark with an almost rainbow colored sheen cut just below her ears, there were various crow and raven feathers tied into the hair.

"Oh my," remarked Blodhgarm, "She is back."

"Who is she?" Eragon demanded in a hiss. "You seem to know her, is she an elf?" Eragon immediately cancelled out that thought, he could see her ears quite well from here and they were round.

"No," Blodhgarm said. "She is human, and I met her but a short while ago."

"How long ago was it?" pressed Eragon.

"Some twelve years."

"That is a much longer time to humans. How can you tell it is the same person?"

"Oh, believe me, Argetlam, when she awakes, you will not be able to forget her either."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, but she is very different than most humans."

"Oh." _That was reassuring, she almost sounds like Angela._ _Saphira? What should I do?_

_Well first_, she remarked dryly_, I would wake her up._ Eragon rolled his eyes. Gently, he approached the girl, but Blodhgarm reached her first. A smile was quick upon his lips as he gingerly shook the figure.

"Little thief," he called softly, "it is time to awake."

_Little thief_, wondered Eragon. _What kind of name is that_?

_It could be a fond memory that caused him to call her that, as I call you little one. _Saphira observed, snaking her head into the tent.

"Who?" the figure called out, her voice slightly muffled. Her eyes opened blearily at first, and Eragon was caught by their color― a strange blue, like the color of the sky on a winter morning, beautiful be very sharp.

"Blodhgarm?" she asked."The old biddy enlisted you in protecting the new Rider?"

"Old biddy?" Eragon repeated, stunned by her words.

"You should not speak of my Queen as such little thief," Blodhgarm chided, his tone fairly mild.

"I'll stop when she stops calling me an insufferable child," retorted the intruder.

_Queen Islanzadi! She has just called the Queen of the elves an old biddy!_ Eragon all but shouted to Saphira. Saphira chuckled.

_It's about time someone called her something besides wonderful, _the dragonreplied. Eragon heard his name mentioned and drew his conscious back to the scene at hand.

"Eragon," called Blodhgarm, "I would like to introduce you to Thalia, the greatest thief in all of Alagaesia." At this introduction, the girl straightened up and offered her hand. Eragon was about to take it when he noticed something, slowly he took her hand by the wrist and turned her hand palm face up. There shining on her palm was the gedway ignasia.

"You're a Rider?" Eragon exclaimed, and even Blodhgarm looked shocked.

"Greatest thing I have ever stolen," she announced proudly.

"Stolen?" sputtered Eragon. "You stole the title of Rider?"

"No no silly, I stole the last dragon egg," laughed Thalia. "Imagine my surprise when I'm halfway from Uru'Baen and all of a sudden I have a brand new companion." At her final word, a small thing slithered out from the blankets. Suddenly, sitting right in the middle of Thalia's lap was a small, green, dragon hatchling.

"I'd like you all to meet Anduin, the second free dragon in all of Alagaesia. Anduin says 'Greetings o' wise ones' the shameless flatterer, also asks permission to project mentally to you all." Once they had all given their permission, a voice seemed to snake through Eragon's brain.

_Greetings. _the voice declared. It was young to be sure, and it greatly reminded Eragon of Saphira when she had been young. But there was something important Eragon felt he was missing.

_It is male, _Saphira pronounced solemnly, explaining the difference her Rider had detected.


	2. What?

**Disclaimer, kudos to my sister for hearing this one: I don't own this story but I do own. **_**Takes out box of dirt. **_**This piece of land! And someday I hope to build on it. **

_It is male_. The thought seemed to chase itself around and around in Eragon's head. Each time it made a revolution it seemed more and more amazing.

The girl Thalia was still sitting on Eragon's bed at her leisure. She had settled the small dragon hatchling on her shoulder as someone would a bird. She was content to fiddle with a knot of some colorful yarn she had produced from her bag, and answer all the questions the elves had to ask her. She would occasionally hand the dragon a slice of dried meat, or jerky as the dwarfs called it; she even occasionally handed him an herb or two.

_It is male. _The thought made a revolution again and Eragon realized what a fool he was being, of course it was male had not Murtagh proclaimed it so in the Battle of the Burning Plains? Satisfied Eragon began to listen to Thalia's stories and to study the dragon some more. He had constantly thought Saphira the fairest of all dragons but was quickly being over ruled by the small hatchling in front of him.

Though the small thing did not have Saphira's grace it seemed to possess a certain kind of fierce nobility that somehow reminded him of a bird of prey. When he grew he was going to have a slightly longer neck and jaw than Saphira. His scales were a sort of green that would make the world's purest emerald cry with envy. He had no spikes, which Eragon found rather odd; Saphira, Gladear, and almost every other dragon he had heard of had had a line of razor sharp spikes down their spine stretching all the way to the tail. But as Anduin breathed Eragon saw a spine of almost feather like spines lift slowly off his back and tail before settling down again almost completely blending in with his scales.

While he listened to some of Thalia's stories he realized they were almost all of her stealing some wonderful or entirely impossible item and then putting it back and stealing smaller, less valuable, but still priceless items. She proclaimed she loved the thrill of stealing something rare and dangerous, but as soon as she would try to sell it she would be caught. So she stole other, but multiple items that would sell well on the black market. But it seemed when she came to the dragon egg, which she recognized immediately, she could not leave it behind and go after a set of jewel encrusted cups as she had intended. "Once I was there I knew what I needed to do," she had remarked with such an easy confidence it made Eragon envious.

It was around this time that Eragon realized they were the only people, he thought, that knew of this dragon. Some people of significant importance would have to be told soon, if not immediately.

"I think we should tell Nasuada about this soon," Eragon announced around the tent in general. He watched as Thalia face drained of what little color it had and began to frantically shake her head.

"Tell anyone else," she begged, "tell Galbatorix himself I don't care! Tell anyone but Nasuada!" To say Eragon was shocked was to say the least.

"Why not," he asked breathlessly. Blodhgarm seemed to gaze at her shrewdly though his expression remained exactly the same.

"Why is it, little thief, that you manage to charm the hearts of all sentient beings in the land excluding those in high positions; such as King Orrin, Queen Islanzadi, Ajihad, and now Nasuada?"

Thalia shifted in her seat and twisted a small strand of coal black hair between her fingers, while a sheepish grin formed on her features. She looked, Eragon thought, a young girl waiting to be chastised by her father for something extremely foolish. Finally she replied,

"It's a natural talent embedded in my very bones. I can't escape the wheel of fate, and my fate seems doomed to irritate anyone in a high position." Blodhgarm performed a very humane gesture and rolled his eyes in exasperation. To Eragon it was fascinating, the elves which he had always perceived as noble, capricious beings whose thoughts and actions far exceeded humans, but now he witnessed a scene all too familiar to what he had experienced growing up with Garrow.

"Where are your sisters and brother so that the exhausting task of chastising you may fall to them?"

"They're about a day and a half a day away**; **I didn't sleep most nights and switched horses every so often when I came across a town. So you'll watch my back when you aren't watching Eragon's."

"You have sisters and a brother?" Eragon asked.

"I have six sisters, one brother, 12 cousins, one aunt, and two uncles. We all travel together but I, being a Dragon Rider now, had to go ahead and join the Varden before them. We all originally planned to join together, because the Empire is becoming rather perilous to travel, so it was either join the Varden or suffer under the old moldy king forever. We chose the first option." Eragon was stunned at the vast differences between the two Dragon Riders. She had seven siblings, he only had a half-brother albeit an evil one he wished nothing to do with.

"What part of Alagaeisa are you from?"

"We lived near …. And … but we were mainly kept to ourselves. I haven't really been outside the forest before. It's quite fascinating. Oh dear, I'm getting tired again. Blodhgarm will you please explain my family while I take a quick nap?"

"I would love to, little thief." Blodhgarm paused for a moment before continuing. "Thalia and her family have always been a mystery to our kind. Thalia's mother, brothers, and sister all came from a place beyond Algaesia's borders and settled in the forest. They cut no trees but rather used stones and added chemicals to mud to make much more solid. There dwellings are rather fascinating places."

Eragon stared at the slight girl beside him, and wondered at what kind of life she had led. Blodhgarm watched him with a sort of amusement.


End file.
